


Stories For Fructoselollipop

by pyksii



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mad Swan Secret Santa 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyksii/pseuds/pyksii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 short fics about Emma and Jefferson.  Written for Fructoselollipop for MSSS2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm Shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fructoselollipop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructoselollipop/gifts).



> I don't own anything.

Emma didn’t know how it had come to this, but she was soaking wet, wrapped in a towel, and sitting on a leather couch in the basement of Jefferson March’s house with the little girl he’d fought like hell for. The lights were flickering over their heads and the space heater in the middle of the room was making the room feel stuffy and still cold.

Or maybe that was just because she was wet, Grace looked perfectly content sitting a foot away with a book like there wasn’t the storm of the century outside. The door back up to the kitchen opened and Jefferson hurried down the steps, a silver tray in his hand, not spilling anything despite his speed and the blankets that she could see over his arms when he got to the bottom steps.

He set the tray on the table before he looked at Emma hesitantly, like she were about to snap at him, and handed her a blanket. She offered him a smile in return, pulling the protection around her shoulders. He flared the second blanket out before tucking it around Grace while she made a face but kept staring at her book. Emma saw the smile on both of their faces, though, the same gentle pulling up at the corners of their mouths.

Jefferson turned his face, ready to speak, and stopped. She looked at the heater, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’ve made tea.” He waited until she frowned at him before he smiled and she couldn’t help but laugh.


	2. Technology

When she first moves in with Jefferson, before all of her things have been taken from Mary Margaret and David’s, “baby making station,” there are noticable differences in lifestyles. The most technologically advanced item in the March household is the TV and DVD player that Emma knows are only there because of Grace. And the only DVDs were Barbie or something else pink and purple that was popular with little girls.

The kitchen has a fridge and a stove, but there’s no toaster or microwave or grilled-cheese maker. Not even a coffee pot. And Emma could live with the lack of technology and easy-cook methods, even with brewing coffee on the stove, she really could. As long as she’s never stranded at the house for hours with nothing to do. Which could never happen. Until she slips on a patch of ice and sprains her ankle.

Jefferson serves as her pillow and they watch cheesy daytime TV until they can’t stand it any longer, and then he reads to her until she falls asleep. He has pancakes and a cup of coffee ready when he kisses her awake in the morning and she doesn’t miss her alarm.


	3. sleepover

The first night Emma stays over at Jefferson’s house, it’s a nervous sort of energy that follows them both around. After dinner, they clean up, barely looking at each other. Emma tries to figure out what’s wrong with her. She doesn’t have to worry about making a bad impression on the children or explaining why she’s suddenly sharing a room with Jefferson.

It’s not like she’s never stayed at...then she realizes she hasn’t spent the night with a man in years. Too many years. And this wasn’t just any man. This wasn’t some town she was leaving. This was Jefferson and this was her families home. She didn't know how she slept or if she did anything strange in her sleep. But he seemed nervous, too, so there was that reassurance. They changed separately and he had turned down the bed when she got to his room.

They laid down together and after a few tense minutes, she rolled onto her side, facing him, and stared at him until he turned his head. Just that, seeing him seeing her, seeing the spark of happiness that wasn’t there the first time she met him, made the knots vanish and she reached out, grabbing one of his hands and holding it.

Emma woke up to Jefferson shaking her arm and she started, looking over at him and realizing she’d turned in her sleep and that her back was pressed to his chest. It’s still dark out and he looks half-asleep. “What’s wrong?” She reaches for her phone, but he makes a grumbling noise a couple of times before he actually speaks.

“You’re a cover hog.” She releases her tight grip on the comforter and he pulls it back so that they’re both covered again, then he leans over and kisses the side of her head before he drops his head onto her pillow and his breathing settles out again. She smiles and snuggles closer to him.


	4. Scarring David

“Em, I got lunch from Grannies, I thought we could...”

There was a yelp from her loft-room and then a thump.

“Emma?” David looked up at the room. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! Don’t come up!”

He set the food down on the counter. “Emma, what’s going on?”

“I’ve got company.”

“But Ruby’s at the diner.”

There was a laugh, a guys laugh. “Shut up!” Emma leaned her head over the edge of the loft, looking down at him. “It’s a guy.”

“Oh!” David stared at her, shocked. “You...you’re having...” He shook his head and ran out of the apartment, the door slamming loudly.

Emma rolled onto her back, looking over at Jefferson. He laughed again. “That may possibly be my favorite memory of him now.”

“We just traumatized my dad.”

“Hm. We did.” He moved over to her, leaning over her and kissing her. “But where were we?”

Emma giggled. He sat on top on her, straddling her thighs, and leaning over her. “I think you’re in my spot.”

“So I am.” He pressed his lips against her neck. “We can improvise.”

The door downstairs opened again. “I’m not looking! I just need to grab my food!”

They looked over the edge and saw David walking towards the kitchen with his hand over his eyes. They both started laughing. “We’re all the way up here, you don’t have to blind yourself.”

“I prefer it this way! I might just cut off my ears, too, while I’m at it.”

“Turn left.” Jefferson called down, smiling. David turned left and stumbled into the couch. Jefferson started laughing and Emma giggled.

“Shut up. Just get the food. It’s fine. I swear, you can’t see us.”

David uncovered his eyes, staring pointedly at the floor while he grabbed one of the food trays and went back to the door. “Please just-um-be safe.” He left and Emma looked up at Jefferson.


	5. Baby

“You’re going to catch a cold.” The warning was gentle and amused. Emma turned away from the view of the yard and smiled at her loving, wonderful, not-yet-husband. She closed the door and tightened the shawl around her shoulders while she walked over to him. “Good morning.” He kissed her gently and she leaned into him. He was still warm from being curled up in bed. Even more reason to press her cold palms under his shirt and against his skin. He groaned, but still pulled her closer.

“I have news,” she whispered. He pulled his head back, glancing down at her.

“Good I’m-staying-home-today news or bad I’m-working-late-tonight news? Because this is our first night alone in two months and as much as I love the family time, and you know I do, I would really like to have a night alone with you and I might set the sheriffs station on fire if you try to work late.” By the time he finished, she was laughing.

“I’m not working today, David’s working and Mary-Margaret is taking the kids home after school. They’re keeping them all weekend.” She moved her hands around his waist and up his abdomen, his shirt bunching up. “We’re almost completely alone.” She pressed a soft kiss against his chest. He frowned.

“Almost? Are we expecting someone?”

“You could definitely say that.” She waited until he looked like he was catching on before she actually said the words. “I’m pregnant.”


	6. Hogwarts

Even for a wizard, the guy was weird. Emma had known Jefferson for six years, in passing of course. He was in her year and a Ravenclaw, he had a cat that he took with him to meals and trained to carry messages. And he could actually stand Filch, they had some strange friendship. And so when winter break came around and his name was on the list to stay for the first time, she was naturally curious.

There were only a handful of students left and she waited in the Great Hall at lunch to ask him why he’d stayed. But when he didn’t come down for lunch or dinner that night, she figured he’d changed his mind and gone home. But on her way back up to Gryffindor, she saw a familiar purple cat waiting on the steps. It had a scroll attached to its collar and it didn’t move away when she retrieved it.

The flourishes made the message look fancy, but it was only the word tea. “Showoff.” She looked down at the cat again, but it was already slinking off. She looked at the message, then shook her head and followed it back down two floors and then up the spiral case to the door with the bronze eagle knocker.

“If you throw me from the window, you will leave a grieving wife...” Emma interrupted to eagle’s riddle, knocking on the door.

She heard the pictures harrumphing indignantly at her, but the door opened and Jefferson smiled sneakingly, looking at the eagle for a moment before he moved aside and let her in. “Good boy, Chesh.” The praise went ignored by the cat that ran past him to the statue of Rowena. “Emma, please, join me for tea.” He waited until she’d walked in to lead her to the table in the center of the room. There were only two chairs at opposite ends and he held hers out while she sat.

“Alright, March, what’s your game?” She watched him pour the tea and move the cake tray closer to her so she could grab a small chocolate cake for her plate.

“At the moment, Emma, it’s cat and mouse.”


	7. Winter Wars

“There’s nowhere we can hide.” Jefferson hugged Emma tightly to his side, glancing back around the tree. A projectile flew past them, just missing his face. He looked down at Emma and she reached up, straightening his cravat.

“Together?”

“It’s the only way we’ll have a chance at surprising them.” He kissed her quickly. “Count of three?”

“Three.” She gripped his hand tightly before she let go and they both picked up their weapons. “One.”

“Two...Three!” They both jumped out from behind the tree and threw their snowballs at the approaching children, trying to fight their way back towards the house. Grace and Henry were surprisingly good aims and had the benefit of their childhood energy.

By the time they’d fought their way to the front door, the four of them were covered in snow and they all shed their coats and boots in lieu of fresh socks and large mugs of cocoa in front of the TV for a Christmas Eve special.


	8. Patient Captor

Staring at the hat was starting to hurt her eyes. The stitching was hurting her fingers. The hunched position was hurting her back. And the feeling of being watched was having an effect on her that was strangely not hurting. She set the hat down, the needle tucked through the brim to hold her place, and stood up. Jefferson moved immediately, his hand wrapping around the gun again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m stretching, hat boy, don’t get your kerchief in a bunch.” She noted with a flutter in her stomach that his lips quirked up at her derision. She moved her arms over her head, moving her neck from side to side. She moved her hands back down, pressing her fingertips together. “I can’t even feel my fingers anymore.”

“Here.” He set the gun down and moved around the table to her. She watched him carefully, ready for him to snap. He lifted her left hand in his, his thumb and forefinger slowly massaging her fingertips one at a time. Emma licked her lips, watching his hands. She could see little marks covering his fingertips, poke-marks and cuts. Scars.

“How many hats have you made?”

“More than I’d care to remember.”

She hesitated. “To try to get out of Wonderland?” He nodded and ‘hmm’ed, his fingers still working. “And Grace was stuck in the forest with your neighbors because Regina betrayed you.”

He looked at her, switching to her right hand. “You’ve read our story in Henry’s book?”

She nodded slowly. “I’ve read most of them. Alice in Wonderland was one of my favorite books when I was little. So when I saw that the m...the hatter’s story was in there, I read it. Just once, just because it was...one of the only ones that didn’t lead to Snow White and Prince Charming. And if that’s you, if that’s what really happened and this is all real, I’m sorry.”

He swallowed, looking back down. “You didn’t do it.” He released her fingers and she glanced at the doorway.

“If you let us go, Jefferson, I can get Mary Margaret back to the cell and none of this would have happened. I won’t arrest you. I understand what’s wrong, I heard you, I get what you’re saying, I just need to get her back.”

He shook his head, looking away from her, but she saw the red around his eyes. “Finish the hat.” He grabbed the gun and left the room, slamming the door loudly.


	9. Apologize

Jefferson’s always tense. He walks in precise steps, his shoulders are always squared, he clenches his fists inside of his pockets. He avoids looking directly at people if he can help it and talking is almost as rare. The only time people see him smile is if Grace is with him, but they’re only out on their walks to and from the school.

“Hello, sheriff.” The hesitant greeting sounds rehearsed and that’s the only thing that keeps Emma from glaring at Jefferson when she looks up from her coffee and grilled cheese breakfast. “May I join you?”

Emma folded the newspaper in half, setting it aside. “Sure.” She waited until he sat down before she folded her arms on the tabletop. “Why?”

He hesitated. “Why what?”

“Why are you sitting with me? What do you want? An apology?”

He shook his head. “No, I wanted to apologize. I...I suppose I lived up to the...madness of my name.”

“Spectacularly.”

He smiled, then cleared his throat and she caught a glimpse of the scar moving beneath his scarf. “I’m sorry. I just wanted my daughter back. She’s all I have, she’s the only person I have and I spent thirty years without her because of one stupid mistake. And I know what I did was wrong, it was horrible...”

“But you didn’t see any other options.” Emma nodded. “I understand. It’s fine. Besides, Mary Margaret kicked you out a window and I probably broke that telescope over your face, so I think we’re even. No one’s dead, we’re both with our families. It worked out.”

He sighed, a sound of relief and exaltation, and then he smiled. That sweet smile from the first time she’d seen him, limping and introducing himself on the side of the road. She remembered that first impression of a confident, flirtatious man and wondered how much of that had been to lure her in.


	10. Closet

The current compromising condition was completely and absolutely Jefferson’s fault. Emma would maintain it until the day she died. She huffed and crossed her arms, glancing back at him venomously. He rolled his eyes. “You did this.”

“Me?!” She tried to turn around in the minute space available to them, but her elbow banged against the wall of the locked storage room. Maintenence room. Whatever, barely lit room in the basement of the hospital that was probably less than two feet in any direction. She had wandered in, checking for clues about the strange sounds that had been coming from down here. Taking the hatter had been a mistake. If he had waited in the hall, everything would be fine. But no, he heard her say ew, thought it was ow, and jumped in like she had called for him. A second later the door had slammed shut and now they were trapped. Broom closet? No brooms...

“Don’t move.”

“Don’t move, that’s your advice, while we’re stuck in here until someone notices we’re missing. This is your fault.”

He sighed heavily and she felt one of his hands move down in the cramped space, massaging her elbow. She jerked her arm forward, slamming it into another wall, and she looked back, glaring at him. “I was trying to help.” He spoke softer and she tempered down her ire.

“I know.” She sighed and looked around. “I don’t suppose you’ve got an idea?”

“Victor knows we’re down here. When we don’t come out, he might care enough to send someone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great.” She leaned forward, not that it really gave her much more space, resting her head against the wall. She felt Jefferson trying to move, and looked over her shoulder at him. He was looking around at the walls as if thinking they could move. Or be moved. “Planning the great escape?”

He looked down at her, his eyes pausing briefly on her back before he met her eyes. His hands were held out to the side slightly. “Yes. Yes that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He looked away from her again and tried to step back, but his back was against the door. “What is this room even for?!”

Emma laughed. “Hey, maybe if I can get to the door I can try to pick the lock.”

“With what?”

She pulled the pins out of her hair and held them up. “Here, let’s just...turn.” She tried to shuffle to the side and he tried to turn, but then she stopped. Jefferson froze, trying again to put distance between them. Emma looked back at him, her eyes wide. “Jefferson!”

He sighed, looking away from her. “You are wiggling against me, it’s not personal.”

“It feels kind of personal to me.” She tried to move again and he grabbed her waist.

“Stop.”

“But...”

“Just a moment.” His hands tightened and he leaned his head against her shoulder.

“It really has been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Forty years.”

Emma tried to face him, but his hips moved against hers and she stopped. “You’ve only been cursed for...”

“I was raising a daughter in the woods, I didn’t exactly have a chance to go out for date nights.” He snapped at her and she scowled, pushing back against him as punishment for his rudeness. But he gasped against her neck and she blushed, looking at the wall in front of her. “I’ll turn right, you turn left.” He spoke again and she nodded. He released her waist and turned to the side while she moved opposite. Emma gripped the bobby pins, reaching down to the doorknob and trying to focus on the task. She tried to lean down, but Jefferson cleared his throat when she rubbed against him again. She glared at him, then moved slowly, sinking down to her knees and focusing on the lock. She had just put the pins into the lock when the door opened. Jefferson grabbed her shoulder to keep her from falling forward. She looked up and saw David looking down at them. He didn’t say anything, just turned and walked away. Emma stood up, hitting Jefferson’s arm.

“David, wait!”


	11. Merry Christmas

Emma is still tucked into Jefferson’s side, her arms tucked under her head and slung across his chest and his arms both wrapped around her, when the noise starts. They’ve had two, maybe three hours of sleep, and the day ahead of them is not an encouraging outlook. One whole day of fun, presents, home-cooked meals, and then the Christmas party at the diner that would last until too late. And the day started with the sound of two sets of feet running up the hall and the bedroom door crashing open.

“Emma!”

“Papa!”

Emma tried to ignore them, but with Henry shaking her arm and Grace pulling on Jefferson, the parents were woken up quickly and efficiently. “Go wait by the tree.” Jefferson’s voice was thick and Emma mumbled an affirmation. When the kids had left the room, she pushed herself up and looked down at him.

“Tea or coffee?”

He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Coffee.”

She got out of the bed and pulled on her robe, tossing his onto the bed, then went down to the kitchen. She could hear the kids sorting the presents and chatting happily like it wasn’t six in the morning. Any other morning and they would still be comatose, but today...She lifted the coffee can and paused. It was much too light. She shook it, then opened it when she heard something bouncing around the inside. There was a small black box in the bottom. She lifted it out slowly, then set the tin down and swallowed. He wouldn’t, he wasn’t, this was...She bit her lip and held her breath, pulling the lid up. She covered her mouth, staring at the beautiful ring nestled in white silk. She turned to call out, to go back and wake him up, but he was kneeling in the doorway, smiling at her.

“Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

She felt herself mouthing the word, “yes,” but her voice was caught in her throat. She nodded, hurrying over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.”


	12. Falling In Love With The Laundry Man

Emma carried the little blazer into the laundromat and to the back where a sign advertised dry cleaning. She leaned forward, looking for someone, and then a man stood up from behind the counter, narrowly missing a head-on collision, and smiled at her. A full, heart-stoppingly charming smile. “You’re new.” His hair was coifed neatly and he was wearing a scarf that had come loose, traces of a dark scar visible on the side of his neck. His jacket was light, a vest under it and a shirt under that, all different shades of dark and still matching. But his smile was more distracting than the rest of it.

“I...I’m Emma.”

“Swan, I know.” His smile dialed back a bit. “I’m Fredrick.”

She nodded, setting the blazer on the counter, the ice-cream stain on top. “Well, Fred, I...”

“Fredrick. I’m not a teenage wizard in a book.”

She grinned. “Fredrick then.”

\-----------

Emma was doing her laundry after work, washing the uniform Graham had given her not so long ago so that she had it for her official sheriff’s picture the next day, the first time he approached her. “Hey, sorry, I know that I’m the only...”

“No, it’s fine. I always love the smell of fresh fabric softener.”

She laughed. “That was...smooth.”

He smiled, leaning against the dryer she was waiting to finish. “You’re the first person I’ve found worth flirting with in awhile, I might be rusty.” He crossed his arms. “It’s funny. I was positive Miss Blanchard has a washing machine. She’s never been in here, after all.”

Emma started to speak, then pursed her lips, grinning. “I prefer laundromats. It has...nothing to do with you, Fredrick.”

“Is that so?” He leaned towards her. “I think it does.” He smiled. She laughed.

“Well then what will we do about that turn of events?”

He leaned in again, his lips touching hers softly, and then pulled back. She stared at him and hesitated a moment, a cold memory tugging at her, but she leaned over and kissed him back.

\-----------

As the weeks past, Emma's trips to the laundromat got more amusing. A flirtatious and always-immaculately dressed man will do that for a girls laundry life apparently, or that’s what Mary Margaret had teased when Emma had started doing both of their laundry. She started spending the wash cycles leaning against the counter while Fredrick made excuses to touch her. Her wrist, adjusting her sleeve; her neck, straightening her collar; her hair. He couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse and she blushed while he stammered.

“Ruby’s throwing a party next week.” Emma interrupted him after a moment. He nodded. “Would you like to go...”

“Yes.”

She smiled at his quick answer. “I’ll see you then.”

\-----------

Emma rolled onto her side, rubbing one hand through her hair, and stretched, parts of her body aching for the first time in a long time. She tried to roll again and her other arm was caught on something. She peeked open one eye and looked up. Her wrist attached to the headboard of the metal bedframe. She blinked and looked around, The lump on the other side of the bed was covered in a thick, plain brown comforter. The room didn’t have any pictures or telling reminders. She drew a deep breath and reached for the comforter, ready to wake him. Hopefully a him. Hopefully not a him she didn’t know. Hopefully Fredrick and not someone like creepy-bike-guy or Gold. Before she could reach the blanket, it turned over and Fredrick’s head poked out from under the covers, his hair sticking up in different directions. He yawned, blinking, looking over at her, and then he sat up. The blanket fell down his chest, revealing new scars that his clothes had hidden. “Emma?”

Her relief was short-lived until a small headache started to build. She groaned, covering her face. “Tell me you remember something. Or just tell me what actually happened. I don’t remember anything after I got to Ruby’s party.”

“Well then our memories seem to coincide. Ruby’s punch always was a little on the strong side.” He looked at her. “Where’re the keys?”

“I was kind of hoping you knew that.” She looked up at him and he nodded, getting up, pulling the blanket around his waist. She held the sheet tightly while he started feeling around on the bed. He held up the small silver key and leaned over her, unlocking the cuff and freeing her wrist. She pulled it down, rubbing it. He sat beside her, staring. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. No, I’m just...trying to remember.”

She sat up slowly, pulling one of the thick pillows behind her back and looking over at him. The scars were dark on his chest and she remembered kissing them. And the ones on his back. “Where are those from?”

He looked down and shook his head. “I’ve had them for as long as I can remember.”

Emma lifted a hand, running a finger across the scar on his neck. “I remember...I touched them.”

He grabbed her hand. “But how did we get back to my place?”

Emma looked up, their hands dropping while she tried to think. “I hope it was safe.” She smiled after a moment. “It’s...barely light out. And I don’t hear cellphones going off at an emergent rate.” She moved her hand up his arm and down his chest. He grinned, pulling her closer.

\-----------

When Emma got into the police station, Mr. Gold was waiting. “Ah, Sheriff Swan. You...well, the festivities hardly show.”

Emma grinned and shook her head. “You are your charming self today, Mr. Gold. How can I help you?”

“Actually, I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, I can hear the price scale tipping. What is it and what’s it gonna cost me?”

“It’s not only for you. I noticed you’ve become quite close to a certain launderer and I simply thought you might enjoy some free advice.”

“Something free from you, it must be my lucky day. Advise away.”

“Kind-hearted men become kind for a reason. And those reasons don’t lead to the wounds I know that man has.”

Emma set her coffee down, crossing her arms. “In English?”

“You would be safer...”

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me how to be safe. The last time you helped me, you nearly killed Regina on the belief that I would save her. If you put anyone else in harms way, for any reason, I will find some way to arrest you. If you hurt Fredrick, I will...”

“Cast me in irons and sail me down the river. I understand. But I’m not the one that wants to hurt you. And I’m quite fond of him myself. I’m warning you that someone else, someone that hurt him, would come back to hurt him again...if it helped them hurt you.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. He...he doesn’t know how he got those scars, do you know who did that to him?”

“I do. Sadly. And more importantly I know who caused it.”

“Are you telling me that the person that tortured him is here, in...”

“The person that had him tortured. The actual...person, they’re not here.”

“Who was it?” She watched as he started to walk out, but grabbed his arm. “Who?”

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t want you to react rashly. Best you not know that.” He pulled his arm away carefully and left. Emma watched him, bile rising in her throat suddenly at the strange and disturbing news.

\-----------

Emma held the blanket carefully, walking back to the dry-cleaning counter. Fredrick was already there, setting up the soap display. “You’re early.” He turned to her. “How may I be of service, dear sheriff?”

Emma set the blanket on the counter, her hands still wrapped around the edges. “I spilled coffee on this. It’s wool and there’s a silk ribbon. Can you save it?”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “My baby blanket.”

His eyes widened for a moment. “I’ll do my best.”

Emma released it and dropped her hands to her sides. “Thank you.”

\---------------

The call came in just after midnight and Emma rushed through getting dressed and used her siren to rush to the house on the hill. Or the remains of the house on the hill. She pulled the emergency break and got out, running towards the house until a fireman grabbed her around the waist. “No, no, Fredrick lives here, you have to...”

“Emma.”

Emma turned and saw Fredrick sitting inside of the ambulance that had somehow escaped her notice. She sighed, then covered her mouth and nodded. She walked over to him and reached out, running her fingers over his lapel and then up to his hair. There was some blood, some small cuts on his face and arms, but there wasn’t anything major and none of his clothes were burnt. “How...”

“I was sitting in a window when the house exploded. I don’t know what happened. I...I don’t know.” He looked up at the house. “I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember, it...it’s all gone.”

“But you’re alive.” She ran her fingers through his hair again, just staring at him. “You’re okay. And you’ll be okay, I promise.” She leaned in and pressed her lips against his. He leaned into her, his hands moving up to cup her face, and she pulled back enough to smile at him. “You’re alive.”

He blinked a couple of times and then just stared at her. “I’m alive. And we’re...” He looked around and his surprise changed to hatred. She turned, following his eyes, and saw Regina standing beside the firetruck, watching the fire. “This was all her.”

“Wait, what?” She looked at him again. “Fredrick, are you...did you see her do this?”

He turned his eyes back to her and they softened again. “No.” He shook his head. “Emma, you’re...you’re here. That’s all that’s important right now.”

“Okay. Are they taking you to the hospital?”

“No. They said something about shock, but I’m fine. I’m...I just need sleep.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He stood up and wrapped his arm over her shoulder.

“Well I’m sure Mary Margaret wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay over.”

He nodded. “That sounds lovely.” He started walking towards the car and she glanced back and saw Regina glaring after them.

\-----

Emma rolled over and saw Fredrick sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was just a bad dream.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“If I told you” He shook his head. “If I said...I was from the Enchanted Forest that Henry talks about and that your kiss woke me up, would you believe me at all?”

Emma sat up. “I’d...think that maybe we should talk about it. Because you’ve been through something traumatic and it’s probably normal to...think things like that. After something like this.”

“Regina is the evil queen and she tried to kill me. Again.”

Gold’s words, just days ago, came back to Emma and she pulled in a deep breath. “Is Regina the reason you have those scars?”

“She sent me to Wonderland and the Queen of Hearts tortured me because I couldn’t make a hat for her to travel with.”

Emma reached her hand forward, rubbing her hand on his shoulder. “Come back to sleep and we can talk to Archie in the morning, okay?”

“Emma, I have a daughter.”

Emma almost recoiled, but she kept her hand on him. “You do?”

“Her name is Grace. She’s...eleven now. I think I’ve seen her, but it’s...still vague.”

“Okay. Tell me more.” She waited until he turned to face her before she nodded encouragingly. “I’m listening.”

“Henry’s stories are true. Graham...he started to remember. When you kissed him, he remembered. He told you things, didn’t he? Things that sounded crazy?”

“He had a heart attack right after he started saying those things.”

“Because she killed him. I can’t prove it, not here, but she did it. And she blew up my house. And she framed Snow for that womans murder. And...And we have to break this curse.”

“Fredrick, Henry’s been saying this for months. What curse?”

“I’m not Fredrick. This town is a lie. Snow White is Mary Margaret, Rumpelstiltskin is Mr. Gold, and you...” He brushed his hand down her cheek. “You’re the savior of us all. You woke me up.”

Emma swallowed. “If she’s Snow White and he’s Rumpelstiltskin, who are you? If you’re not Fredrick, then who are you?” She tried not to sound desperate, tried not to let him see how lost she was in this conversation.

“My name is Jefferson. And I’m a hatter.”

“Okay. Jefferson. I suppose you don’t like Jeff.” She saw the barest smile on his lips and he nodded.

\-----

Emma watched Fredrick-Jefferson while they were walking to the laundromat. He was glancing at everyone and everything like he was confused, but he would nod ever so often and murmur something to himself. They went in and there was an unusual amount of activity in the shop. It seemed like everyone that normally went to the diner for gossip had shown up here to see how he was doing. Mr. Gold was standing at the counter, three suits folded neatly and waiting for attention. Fredrick-Jefferson hurried forward, still holding on to Emma, looking into Mr. Gold’s eyes in a way that even made Emma uncomfortable. “You’re awake.” The accusation made the pawn-broker smile, though, and Emma felt a tingle of discomfort that Gold wasn’t confused at all.

“Well someone’s got to keep Miss Swan on track.”

“Hey!”

“That does remind me.” Fredrick-Jefferson sounded less determined now. He squeezed Emma’s hand before he released it and went around the counter. He led them into the back, unlocking his office and waiting until they’d both gone in to close and re-lock the door. He pulled the bag with her blanket from his desk and set it on the desk, smiling at Emma. “This is yours.” Fredrick-Jefferson said; she stopped herself. Jefferson. Jefferson March of the Enchanted Forest. She smiled hesitantly, then she looked at Gold and something clicked.

“Wait. I never kissed you.”

He grinned, chuckling and glancing at Jefferson before he answered her. “If that’s an invitation, Miss Swan, I must warn you, I’m much older than I look and I think your darling beau would have a problem with your advances towards me.”

“I’m serious. I didn’t. So how do you...” She frowned, then sighed and shook her head. “How do you remember...that stuff?”

“Having difficulty admitting it, are you? Well, you’d best get used to it. I made the curse, Miss Swan. And I made a loophole so that I would wake up when the time was right. Your name, specifically. When you arrived in town and I heard your name, I awoke.”

“Why my name?”

“You’re the savior. It was easy enough to purchase your name from your mother and build in the key.”

“Right. My name is a magic memory word and I have to start a kiss line for the whole freaking town. Great.”

“You will not.” Jefferson sounded offended and she smiled at him before she turned to Gold.

“So, Obi-Wan, how do I break the curse?”

“This will require some manipulation on our parts. And sadly, someone will have to be cursed.”

\---------

Emma hugged Henry to her chest, looking at all of the people that were gathering around his hospital room. Jefferson was just outside of the door, smiling at her. She nodded at him and he came in. Regina looked shocked at his ease around Emma after his part in the apple plot, but he only had eyes for his savior.


End file.
